Nedra eBook

There was not a waver in the clear brown eyes, nor
a quiver in her voice as she replied. Instead,
there was a flicker indicating injured pride, followed
by the sweetest, tenderest smile that he ever had seen
on her face.

“Dear old Hugh! Did I not tell you that
I would go to the end of the world with you?”

“But we may go to the bottom of the sea,”
he interposed, seizing her hands, his face lighting
up gladly.

“Then I shall go to the bottom of the sea with
you. I never have felt the faintest desire to
turn back. It has been my greatest happiness to
think that some day we shall reach Manila, where our
dear adventure may have its second and most delightful
epoch. Would I turn back? Would you?”
She looked divinely happy as she answered her first
triumphant question with the second.

And so they sailed again.

As on their first voyage, their staterooms adjoined.
Passage and accommodation had been booked for H.B.
Ridge and Miss Ridge, Chicago, U.S.A.

The following morning, Grace was awakened by a rattling
at her stateroom door.

“How are you feeling?” called a well-known
voice rather anxiously.

“Quite well, thank you. Is it time to get
up?”

“I should say so, Sis.”

“All right; in ten minutes.” As she
set her feet upon the floor she observed a tendency
on their part to touch twice before settling finally.
A momentary dizziness came over her. She closed
her eyes quickly and waited a moment before reopening
them. Suddenly Hugh’s photograph, which
was leaning against her hat on the steamer trunk,
ducked slowly toward her as if bowing a polite good-morning,
and then fell face downward. Miss Vernon rubbed
her eyes and stared at the overturned picture for
a full minute before resuming her toilet. Then
she laughed nervously and made all haste to get on
deck. She was one of the few women who dress
quickly and yet look well. Attired in a becoming
gown, a jaunty cap, checked raincoat and rough brown
gloves, she ventured forth expecting to find Hugh
waiting for her. At the same time she was thanking
her lucky stars that no longer need she fear the authorities.

Slightly dismayed and a little bewildered, she looked
to the right and left, trying to remember which stateroom
Hugh occupied. The left, she concluded, and forthwith
applied her pretty knuckles to the panel; vigorously.
The door flew open, almost taking her breath, and a
tall, dark man stood before her, but he was not Hugh
Ridgeway. He looked askance in a very polite
way.

“I beg your pardon,” she stammered in
confusion. “I have made a mistake.
This isn’t Mr.—­my brother’s
room, is it? Oh, dear, how absurd of me.”
She was turning away as she concluded.

“Can I be of service to you?” asked the
stranger, stepping forth. He had a very pleasant
voice, but she did not remark it at the time.

“No, I thank you,” she hastily replied.
“His room is on my right, I remember. Sorry
if I disturbed you,” and she was pounding on
the other door. She glanced back at the stranger’s
door involuntarily and then away instantly. He
was staring at her in a most uncalled-for manner.